


I'm Not Gonna Leave You

by losingmymindtonight



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Evil Fog, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Supernatural (TV), Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losingmymindtonight/pseuds/losingmymindtonight
Summary: "Go before I hurt you!”“No. I’m not leaving you, ever! You hear me, kiddo?”





	I'm Not Gonna Leave You

**Author's Note:**

> This is directly inspired by a Supernatural episode (S11Ep20). The idea popped into my head one day and wouldn’t leave. A lot of the dialogue and stuff is taken directly from that episode, although I definitely messed with it to make it distinctly Tony and Peter.  
> I hope you like it! This is just a fun little oneshot to give me a break from trying to beat out the next chapter of And You’ll Blow Us All Away (which I swear is coming soon!)

Tony swung a metal fist into the nearest alien’s face, knocking it into a vacant bus and leaving it unmoving. There were only about five left standing. Their brethren’s twitching bodies littered the New York sidewalk. He took the rest of them out with a series of well-placed shots from his repulser cannons. As soon as the last alien was down, and stayed down, Tony blasted into the air and set about desperately surveying the area for a certain kid who had, of course, defied his direct order of _staying right next to him._

Damn teenagers.

_There he is_.

Peter was webbing one of the creatures to a dumpster in a sidealley. He had at least twenty swarming all around him, but his group appeared to be made up of the last ones. The kid was limping a little, Tony noticed, and favoring his right arm, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

The billionaire dropped down beside him and shot one of the aliens in the chest just as it was about to slam its fist into Peter’s face.

“Thanks, Mister Stark!” The kid was breathless, but still found the energy to shoot his mentor an exuberant smile.

“No problem, kiddo.” One of the aliens managed to crush the jet on his boot when he turned to pull the kid away from what would have been a particularly nasty blow. Wonderful. He’d have to handle the rest of the creatures from the ground, apparently.

It took the two of them about five minutes to finish off the rest of the aliens. Peter webbed up the final one and collapsed heavily against the dirty wall of the alley.

“Nice job, kid.” Tony said, reaching out and tugging the mask off of the teenager’s face. No one was around, and F.R.I.D.A.Y. would notify him when the cleanup crew arrived. “You hurt?”

Peter shook his head. “Not badly.” The kid was gasping for breath, looking around the carnage with wide eyes. “Man, that was _awesome_!”

Tony just raised a patronizing eyebrow at the kid’s excitement.

“I-I mean,” Peter sputtered, a blush turning his cheeks red, “I, uh, it’s totally _not_ awesome. I mean, look at all this damage, and stuff.” The kid waved his arms around dramatically. “Definitely not cool. Actually, the least cool. Yeah.”

Tony just snorted, ruffling the kid’s hair fondly. “Sure, kid. Anyway, I’ve called the cleanup crew. We’ll stick around ‘til they get here and then head back to the Tower for a celebratory dinner. I was thinking pizza, but I’m open to suggestions as long as they don’t suck.”

Peter opened his mouth to answer when F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in. “Sir, the initial cleanup team will arrive at your location in approximately fifteen seconds. I suggest that Mister Parker should replace his mask.”

The kid quickly did as she suggested. The eyes of the mask squinted and then went wide as they adjusted to the light and the suit brought sensory input down to a comfortable level. Tony was always amazed by how much tension left Peter’s shoulders when the mask was on. He didn’t know if it was from the relief of having his face hidden or if his enhanced senses were really that difficult to cope with.

He should really find that out.

Seconds later, five people came jogging around the corner. The cleanup crews always sent in an initial team tasked with determining if the area was safe enough to proceed. Three out of the five members were police officers with special training in Avengers related combat. Tony had laughed when he’d heard that there was actually a program for that, but he’d later realized just how helpful it actually was.

“Mister Stark,” one of the policemen said, nodding in his direction politely, “and, uh, Spider-Man.”

Peter gave a little wave, and Tony struggled to hold in his laugh. “The area should be secure. We’ll need to find containment facilities for-”

Tony never had a chance to finish, because a white fog began creeping around the corner of one of the buildings.

“Get behind me.” He snapped, giving Peter a rough shove and placing himself between the cleanup crew and the mist. “Do any of you have gas masks?”

“No, Sir.” To Tony’s surprise and respect, none of the crew were panicking.

“Contact the rest of your unit. Tell them we need evac.”

“Can’t you just fly them out of here?” Peter asked. Somehow, the kid hadn’t gotten the physical message Tony had conveyed with the shove and was standing right beside him.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Can we fly?”

“No, Sir.” The AI responded. “You may be able to sustain a single short flight, but your boot jet is severely damaged. You will not be able to support much more than the suit’s weight. Even then, it is unlikely that you will be able to travel far enough to outrun this new threat.”

One of the officers piped up from behind him. “Sir? None of our radios are working. We can’t reach our unit.”

_Shit_. This was just getting better and better.

A member of the cleanup crew, one of the actual scientists this time, stepped in front of Tony. “The fog could be a distraction. We don’t even know if it’s dangerous.”

He scoffed. “It’s alien. It’s definitely dangerous.”

“Mister Stark?” Tony turned to look directly at the kid. He was shifting nervously on his feet. The mist was only a few meters away from them now. They needed to act quickly. “What’re we supposed to do? I-I could try to web them to safety, but I don’t know where the fog is coming from and if I can get high enough to avoid it.”

“No, we can’t risk it. We need to-”

A scream ripped his attention away from planning.

The scientist had walked right up to the milky fog, and _touched it_. He was screaming in pain, choking as the mist crawled into his lungs with every breath. And… and his veins were turning _black._

“Jaime?” One of the police officers yelled, moving to go to his aid. “Shit, Jaime?!”

Tony lunged to restrain him. “Don’t! Listen, nobody touches the fog, alright?”

“Mister Stark!”

The scientist had stopped writhing on the ground, and was now kneeling, head bowed low.

“Jaime?” The officer yelled, voice cautious. “Jaime? You good, man?”

When the man looked up, there were ropey black veins running up his neck and brushing his chin. And his eyes…

His eyes were empty.

The scientist reached straight for his gun and fired.

Luckily, Tony’s suit was bulletproof. He caught the bullet in the shoulder and pushed the officer he’d been restraining behind him. As the scientist scrambled forward with an inhuman yell, Peter rushed to meet him.

Because _of course_ he did.

The kid managed to disarm the guy in seconds. He held the gun loosely in one hand while he held up the other in a placating gesture.

“Whoa, dude. Your name’s Jamie, right?” The man stopped, cocking his head at the teenager. “Hi. My name’s Peter. You-you don’t want to do this, right? You don’t want to hurt us.”

For a breath, Tony thought the kid’s approach might actually work.

Then, the scientist lunged forward and wrapped his hands around Peter’s throat.

He surprised the kid enough that they both went down. The back of Peter’s head hit the concrete hard enough to daze him, and the gun clattered to the ground beside him. Tony brought up his gauntlet to fire, but the two were struggling enough that he couldn’t shoot without the risk of hitting Peter.

He was so focused on the kid that he didn’t even notice the other policeman slip past him and jump into the fray.

“Jaime!” The man yelled, tugging him off of Peter. The kid gasped for a second before scrambling to his knees. “Jaime, stop this!”

There wasn’t even the tiniest glint of recognition in the man’s eyes at the sight of his team member. Instead, he brought out a merciless hand and caught the man’s throat in a fist.

The policeman choked, hands scrabbling weakly at the scientist’s hold.

When Peter moved to help, the possessed scientist tugged the other man closer, putting him in a headlock that threatened to break his neck.

The kid froze, eyes wide and scared. At some point, he’d picked up the gun again. He was holding it with trembling fingers.

Tony realized what he was going to do just a split second before he did it.

Peter raised up the gun, and fired.

Peter knew how to shoot. In fact, his enhanced sight and senses made him an incredible marksman. Rhodey had been giving him lessons for months. Originally, the kid had been violently against the idea.Tony had brought him around eventually, however, reasoning with him that he’d never have to actually use his lessons on someone, but understanding the ways guns worked and the safety precautions you should take around them might help Peter save a life one day.

He’d never actually thought the kid would have to shoot someone.

The scientist went down in a heap, a bullet hole right between his eyes, and the policeman crawled away, gasping.

The kid swayed, and Tony caught him when he dropped.

“M-Mister St-Stark,” Peter’s entire body was shaking as he sobbed, “I-I-oh my god-I _killed_ him.”

“I know, I know.” The fog was almost engulfing them now. They had to move. He spotted a backdoor to a store and broke the padlock with the arm that wasn’t holding Peter. “Everybody get in!”

He had to bodily haul the kid through the door after the cleanup crew. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Are our communications still working? Can I get a message to Rhodey?”

“Something is scrambling them, Boss, but I might be able to get a simple message through to Colonel Rhodes.”

“Tell him what’s happening, and ask him to try and shut it down. And tell him to be fucking careful while he’s at it.”

“Right away, Sir.”

The store seemed to be an old Deli. He dropped Peter into one of the booths, feeling a sting of guilt as the kid curled up and whimpered. Tony knew that the kid wanted, _needed_ , comfort right now. Hell, he’d just _killed_ someone. But Tony didn’t have time to baby him. He was a little too busy trying to save his life.

He rifled through the cabinets in the back, grabbing duct tape and a few sheets of cardboard before rushing back to the front.

“Cover all the windows and duct tape any cracks in the doorways.” Tony said, tossing a portion of the supplies to the cleanup crew. “Hopefully, it’ll buy us some time.”

With a deep breath, Tony shoved his affection for the kid somewhere deep inside him and dragged him roughly to his feet. “You too, kid.” He shoved a piece of cardboard and a roll of duct tape into the teenager’s hands. “Window right behind you. Secure it.”

To Tony’s surprise, Peter moved to do so instantly. Sure, he stumbled on shaky legs and every movement seemed robotic, but the kid _did_ move. So, that was something.

Tony had rushed over to help secure a window on the opposite side of the room when he noticed one of the officers shout.

And then, to his horror, he heard a hacking cough from a certain teenage kid that he knew too damn well.

Peter had taped up his window and had lunged over to help with another, but the fog had been too quick. The first wave had flooded in before the cardboard had been secured and the kid had shoved the other man out of the way while he stayed put, coughing violently and listing sideways as he finished the job with shaking hands.

“Peter!”

The kid dropped, landing painfully on his hands and knees. Beside him, Tony heard one of the scientists whispering in horror.

“My god. He’s infected.”

Tony sprung into action. He quickly moved forward to drag the kid away from the mist, but stopped dead when Peter pushed out a hand and yelled.

“Mister Stark! No!”

Even though every single fiber of his being was _screaming_ for him to rush in and rescue his kid, he knew that he needed to get the others to safety first. He glanced around desperately and noticed a supply closet.

“Get in!” He shouted, shoving open the door and ushering the cleanup crew into the small space.

When one of the policemen tried to pull him inside after them, he ripped away.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and pushing the door closed, “I’m not leaving the kid.”

As soon as the door was shut and he covered the threshold with duct tape, Tony whipped around to find the teenager.

_Peter._

The kid’s back was pressed up against a booth. Every breath wheezed in and out painfully. At one point, the teenager must have ripped off his mask. It lay beside him in a crumpled mess, revealing a far too pale face and eyes that were squeezed shut in pain. Every muscle was coiled tightly. His hands scrabbled uselessly at his chest.

Tony lunged for him. Fog be damned.

He grabbed his shoulders and Peter’s hands instantly moved to grip Tony’s biceps. He was coughing on the fog, body jerking as glassy eyes fixed desperately on his mentor.

“Peter! Listen to me-”

“I’m-I’m sorry.” He gasped, fixing Tony with an unsteady gaze. “Don’ take the suit away. ‘M sorry.”

“Hush, Peter, I’m not taking the suit away.”

“‘M not gonna make it.”

“Hey, there’s no quitting here.” Tony slid his fingers through the kid’s mop of curls. The gesture often calmed Peter down during nightmares. “Those aren’t your thoughts, okay? It’s the fog. It’s muddling everything up in that genius brain of yours.”

“I-I know. I-I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it.” The kid bit off a scream into a groan. “You-you gotta go. I can’t fight this.”

Tony didn’t budge.

“Go before I hurt you!” The kid yelled, trying to give his mentor a shove. Tony felt panic rip through him when the push barely even rocked him backwards.

“No. I’m not leaving you, ever! You hear me, kiddo?”

The kid blinked at him for a second before sliding sideways with another grunt of agony. Tony’s right hand curled around the back of his head while the left moved to give the kid’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Okay. Okay. You’re gonna be okay, Peter.”

Then, he had an idea.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.? The fog can’t get through the suit’s filtration systems, right?”

That must be the reason why Tony wasn’t infected yet. He could take off the helmet and put it on Peter. Sure, Tony would die, but Peter would be okay. It was an easy trade.

“The fog is able to enter the suit, Sir. I am, as of right now, unsure how it is managing to bypass the filtration system.”

That didn’t make any sense.

Tony ripped off the helmet and took a deep, long breath of the mist around him.

He waited. In a way, he longed for the pain to wash over him. After all, if Peter was going to die, Tony ought to go down with him.

But nothing happened.

He glanced at his hands desperately, and felt horror crawl through his chest when the veins didn’t fill with inky black. For a moment, the only thing he could see was a pile of his teammates, all dead, while he still lived.

This time, Peter’s lifeless eyes stared at him from the very top.

_No. Not this. Anything but this._

At some point, Peter’s struggles had grown weaker and weaker. His legs kicked weakly, but the fight seem to have drained out of him. His head lolled sideways as his eyes blinked up at Tony dazedly.

Tony cupped his face and swiped a calloused thumb across the kid’s cheekbone.

_These are killing hands,_ Tony thought, _not hands that heal. Not hands that comfort a dying child._

 “Hey. Hey. Look at me, okay? Look right at me. I’m right here. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you, alright? Everything is gonna be okay.”

The tension seemed to relax right out of the weakening kid’s body as he listened to his mentor ramble. Tony caught his head as it threatened to tip forward, cupping it gently and angling the teeanger’s face so that their gazes were still locked.

With every second that passed, Peter seemed to slip father and father away from him. His breathing shallowed, and his eyes took on the haze of death that Tony knew all too well.

And then, just as Tony was sure that he was going to have to watch Peter Parker take his last breaths, the mist started to retreat.

“Sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, “it appears that Colonel Rhodes has managed to deactivate the device that was producing the fog.”

He nearly sobbed with relief. “You hear that, Peter?” The Deli was almost completely clear of the mist. Tony took a deep breath of fresh air. “Peter?”

Peter’s eyes were halfway open, staring blankly into nothingness, and his chest wasn’t moving.

Peter wasn’t _breathing._

Tony lunged forward and shook Peter’s shoulders violently. “C’mon, kid. _Breathe_ , damn it! Just take a breath. I know you can do it. You’ve got great lungs. How could you talk for so damn long without them? _Please,_ Peter.”

When his only response was the kid’s head lolling so that his chin pressed against his chest, Tony nearly screamed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? What do I do?”

“I suggest engaging in rescue breaths. Mister Parker still has a pulse.”

Right. Rescue breaths. Tony know how to do those. Breathe for Peter because Peter couldn’t breathe for himself.

Tony rolled the kid to the floor, flipping him onto his back and tilting his chin up with shaky fingers. He used his free hand to pinch the teenager’s nose shut as he quickly pushed the first breath into Peter’s lungs. His lips were still warm. Tony pulled back, counted to five, and did another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And-

And then Peter took a breath.

It was a horrible, wheezing thing, and it sounded like it hurt like hell, but Tony decided that nothing had ever sounded sweeter.

“Peter!” The kid was coughing hard enough that tears were spilling down his cheeks. Tony rushed to move Peter onto his side. “You’re okay, buddy. Just breathe.”

_Please, Peter. Just keep breathing._

Tony felt a sob of relief catch in his throat when he saw the black in Peter’s veins leeching away. Within seconds of breathing clean air, the kid’s skin looked completely normal.

Peter finally stopped coughing, groaning a little as he blinked up at his mentor. “That wasn’t fun.”

_This kid._

“No,” Tony agreed, squeezing the back of the teenager’s neck reassuringly, “let’s never do that again, okay?”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Huh. Why do you think Tony wasn’t affected by the fog? If you want my personal theory, it’s because Tony Stark is actually the soul stone. I know that’s a theory that’s been bouncing around the fandom, and I am HERE FOR IT.  
> As always, please leave me some reviews down below! They make me very happy :)  
> Let me know if you think this should have a second chapter. I've thought about delving into the fact that Peter actually killed someone in this, and maybe playing with the emotional fallout of this whole adventure. If you'd like to see that, let me know!


End file.
